After a long day on the train, I decided it would be nice to stretch the legs and walk to the hotel (as if I hadn't done enough walking the past four days). So I headed off into the damp, darkening night and trusted my cell phone to guide me the two miles to my hotel.
Unfortunately, the cell service was spotty, and I veered off course more than once. While GPS wasn't working that great, I was still able to message the wife and she was able to direct me back onto the correct path to my hotel. After nearly an hour, I finally made it.
After checking in, getting into my room, and changing out of my wet clothes, I wandered back down to the hotel bar for a late dinner and a beer. There I met a nice Irish lass named Katie who was both a bit tipsy and a bit handsy. Thankfully her husband came to collect her, and after a couple of greetings, a lingering stroke of the arm from Katie (!!), and an apologetic glance from the husband, I was able to drink my beer and eat my dinner in peace. I might have enjoyed the attention on a different day, but damn I was tired
Day 2 - Thursday
St. Paul's Cathedral was only about a mile from the hotel. Donning my rain coat and pulling the hood up, I headed that direction. After a quick stop for some coffee, I spotted the dome of the cathedral and pointed myself towards it. Once inside, I did a few laps, and then decided to climb the 528 stairs to the top. 528 stairs doesn't sound like a lot, but I tell you what... I was glad there were places to stop on the way! I stopped at the Whispering Gallery (257 steps, and inside) and the Stone Gallery (376 steps, and outside) before making my way to the Golden Gallery at the top (528 steps, outside). The view from the top was quintessential London: gray, dreary, and drizzly. Even with the heavy overcast, the view was magnifcent, and I could see The Shard, The London Eye, and The Tower of London.
The stairwells to get to the top were sometimes so narrow and low that I had to turn sideways and duck. Others were tornado stairs that were steep enough that I could rest a hand on a step and my foot was six steps lower.
After I made it back down, I rested a bit, listening to the big church organ. It looked as if they had a class of teenagers who were all learning, which I might have killed for at that age (or now even). Then I made my down to the crypts where I saw Christopher Wrens' (architect of St. Paul's) and Lord Admiral Nelson's tombs.
After leaving the Cathedral, I made my way down to The Thames and crossed via the Millennium Bridge. You may remember it as being the bridge that was destroyed by the Dementors in The Half-Blood Prince. Thankfully, there were no Dementors and I made it safely across.
By this time I was cold and wet and hungry, so I found a pub called The Sugar Loaf (I want to start a blog/IG account about all the pubs in the UK. I'm sure that's a completely original idea... ) and had some lunch and tried to warm up. Decided to head back to the hotel early and put some warm clothes on.
Currently I'm finishing this post up from the bar. In my PJs. Because the damn fire alarm keeps going off. So much fun.
Day 3 - Friday
My brother arrived Friday morning, and after dropping his stuff at the hotel, we hopped on the tube to visit Churchill's War Room. Fascinating look into how Churchill managed the war from the bunkers.
Afterwards we walked up to Buckingham Palace, which was wall-to-wall people. We skirted the main crowds and walked back towards the streets where we stopped for some food. Then with raincoats on, we headed back out into the now steady rain and walked towards the British Museum.
Definitely one of those museums you can't do in one day. We saw the Rosetta Stone, probably one of the more famous pieces the museum has. We saw some of the Egyptian wings, as well as bits of the Assyrian areas, Greek and Romans, and the Watch area. Truth to tell I'm not a big museum person, but the British Musuem was definitely worth it. Would be happy to go back and explore more.
Day 3 - Saturday
We met up with my brother's wife, and spent the day mostly just playing tourist. No real agenda, and nothing we all wanted to see. By this time, I was pooped, and my feet were constantly tired (I've probably walked 50+ miles in the past 5 days by now), so we laid low, enjoyed a couple of different pubs while catching up, and generally enjoying the experience and character of London.
We wrapped up the day by going to see Fields of the Nephilim, the impetius for this whole UK trip, as described in my previous post. Fantastic show, and I'm forever grateful for my brother for making the suggestion. It was a joke at first, but I'll be forever grateful to my brother (and my wife!)for pushing me to do it.
Day 4 - Sunday
When checking the trains to Heathrow in the morning, I discovered that a direct line was not possible as there was rail work being done. Given that it looked like it might be a bit challenging to get to Heathrow, I decided to leave much earlier than originally planned. I said my goodbyes to my brother and his wife, and headed for the tube station. I managed to get to South Kensington, and on that train saw a guy with a big suitcase. I asked him if he was going to Heathrow, and when he replied in the affirmative, I asked him if I needed to get off at Hammersmith because of the rail work, or if Acton town would be OK. He said he was planning on going to Acton town and getting off there. However, at Hammersmith, a rail worker popped his head into the car, yelling that anyone going to Heathrow needed to get off here.
The guy I was talking to was named Shaun, and he and I stuck together, navigating our way through the station, trying to find the buses that the rail workers were directing us to. At one point, one of the ladies working said that we needed to "make a left at McDonald's". Shaun and I looked at each other, shrugged, and headed on down the concourse. We did eventually find a McDonald's, made a left, and found another worker, pointing people towards the buses. We managed to find the right bus, and we sat together on the bus and got to know each other a little bit better. He was heading to Atlanta, with a six day trip through Tennessee and South Carolina planned.
Once we finally made it to the airport, we were both about 3 1/2 to 4 1/2 hours early for a flight. So we decided to pop into a restaurant and have a couple beers while we waited. We talked about a variety of things, from differences in growing up in schools, to music we enjoyed (talk about small world: he actually grew up knowing the bass player for The Fields of the Nephilim, the band we saw last night) to, naturally, politics. At one point, I mentioned the "shithead of a governor in Florida", and the lady half of the couple at the table next to us said "we're from Florida!". Mentally I thought "oh shit…", and then made some noises of apology, but she said "no it's OK. He IS a shithead!"
So we spent the next hour talking politics, complaining about the right, etc. Turns out Kevin, the older gentleman of the couple, actually played tennis against Trump back in the 80s. He mentioned that even then he was surrounded by sycophants, who were all bragging about how good Trump was, so Kevin decided then and there to kick his ass. And he did.
It's amusing that one of the absolute highlights of my trip this past week has been spent talking to these three people over the last few hours in an airport. They were all just cool people. But eventually we all needed to go. I said good-bye to Shaun, exchanging WhatsApp contacts, and we went our separate ways.
It was a wonderful end to a wonderful trip. I very much want to take the wife, to Edinburgh especially, and will be looking to make that happen in next year or two. Until then, I have a bunch of wonderful memories!